Mad Love Page 11

  Chapter 17

  Lilah

  We drive back to Geneva Lake in silence. I periodically catch Dante’s awkward stare in the rearview mirror, but he looks away each time with that angry, big brother scowl. It’s almost enough to make me snap at him but I’m far too exhausted to pick that battle right now.

  Lucy meets us on the porch in a tight top and yoga pants with a fresh layer of sweat coating her brow. Her eyes soften as the three of us climb out of the car and she grins wide as she sees me.

  “Hey!” she says. “Welcome… back…”

  Her head follows Dante as he brushes past her and pushes through the front door without pausing.

  She looks at me and Elijah. “Do I want to know?”

  I sigh and drop my duffel onto the porch. “It’s a long story.”

  Elijah smirks. “Lilah banged the bounty hunter.”

  Lucy’s jaw drops.

  I fire a warning glance at Elijah. “Okay, maybe not as long as I thought…” I pull my sweater over my head and Lucy’s mouth sags a little more at the dried blood down the side of my dress. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” I assure her.

  “Lucy…” Elijah slides his medkit off his shoulder, “can you get us some water, please?”

  She nods and heads inside as the two of us sit down on the porch steps.

  I slide the dress down my shoulders and turn the wound toward him so he can get a better look at it.

  “Who patched you up?” he asks, gripping the bandage.

  I wince as he tears it off with one quick rip. “He did,” I say.

  The front door creaks open and Lucy returns with a clean cloth and a bowl of water.

  “Thanks, Luce,” Elijah says.

  She sets it down behind me and eyes the wound on my side. Not a lot of concern crosses her face, so I guess it really isn’t as bad as it seems. “I guess I’ll go talk to Dante…” she muses.

  I chuckle. “Have fun.”

  She breathes an understanding sigh and disappears back inside.

  “This was sloppy,” he says.

  I smirk. “It’s fine, Elijah. No stitches necessary. Just clean it and bandage it. It didn’t even hurt… much.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that.”

  My smile drops. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Elijah pauses as he wrings the excess water from the cloth. “We’ve always been a team,” he says. “You and me.”

  “I know.”

  “Then, why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

  I drop my head as he wipes the wound. “I just… you have a shot, Elijah.”

  “At what?”

  “You never wanted this.” I take a deep breath. “This lifestyle. You stuck it out for me. I wanted to give you a chance to be who you really wanted to be… for one night.”

  He fishes through his kit for a new bandage, staying quiet for several long, torturous moments before he replies. “I get it,” he finally says. “I just don’t like how you did it. We know better than to assume any job will be easy.”

  I nod. “I’m sorry.”

  “And for the record… this is who I want to be.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  I crane my neck to look at him.

  “Lilah…” he continues, “you’re my sister. My twin. Okay? Hot nurses come and go. You don’t. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

  I pause, slightly intimidated by his strong tone. Elijah doesn’t put his foot down very often, but when he does, I feel a surge of pride.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Elijah takes the bowl of pink water and tosses it out into the bushes off the porch. “What about your wrists?”

  “My wrists?” I notice the red and purple marks. “Oh…” I shake my head. “They’re fine.”

  “He tie you up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He didn’t… hurt you, did he?”

  “No.”

  “Because I’ll beat him up for you.”

  “No,” I say again, smiling. “You wouldn’t have caught us the way you did if he had.”

  “Good.” He stands and leans down to grab his medkit.

  I take his hand. “So…” I smile wider. “Was she cute?”

  Elijah breathes a reluctant laugh. “Yes,” he answers. “She’s cute. And smart.”

  “Funny?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good teeth?”

  He laughs. “Not the first thing I noticed, but yeah.”

  “You gonna see her again?”

  “I might, if things calm down.” He pauses, his eyes twisting with hesitation. “So, what’s the deal with you and the bounty hunter?”

  I wince. “I have no idea.”

  “What exactly happened?”

  “I don’t know.” My pulse skips as I stand up with him. “One minute, we’re fighting — like actual fighting — punching and kicking each other, and the next…”

  His face screws up. “Weird.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. If he really is working with Myra, then I can’t trust him at all. I can’t believe a word he said to me.” I kick the stairs beneath me. “I feel like an idiot.”

  Elijah throws his arm around my shoulders. “That’s ‘cuz you are one—” I jab his ribs with my elbow. He laughs it off. “It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up. Dante will do that enough for you.”

  “Think he’ll get over it?”

  “Yeah.” He waves dismissively at the front door. “You know him. He just needs to let off steam. You two will be back to calling each other big brother and little sister in no time.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Eh…” He tilts his head with a sour expression, milking the moment for as long as possible before letting me down easy with a warm smile. “I already have.”

  I rest my head on his shoulder. “Good.”

  I’m such an idiot.

  There were more than enough red flags waving over Archer’s head. With everything I don’t know about him, why the hell did I fall for this… whatever the hell this is?

  Elijah gives my shoulder a light squeeze. “Think you can do it?”

  I take a deep breath. When all is said and done, there’s still a principle in play here.

  He knows too much. He knows about the lake house and that Dante’s alive and all of my own foolish weaknesses.

  Archer Allen has to die.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  Chapter 18

  Archer

  Three more days until Friday. I can find some way to kill time until then without going mad.

  I hope.

  I can’t go a minute without sensing her around me, tasting her on my lips, or catching a whiff of her scent.

  Lilah, Lilah, Lilah.

  My favorite bounty, indeed.

  Even the stench of blood and sweat and the promise of man-on-man beatings isn’t enough to curb the very thought of her.

  The two fighters circle each other in the ring, trading blow after blow while the eager St. Louis crowd blazes around me. They chant the names of their fighters and coo over the pretty blonde with the microphone who lassos them in. I must admit, these Midwest boys aren’t bad, but I prefer a little more style in my mixed martial arts.

  The fight ends with one of them tapping out and the blonde arrives on cue to soothe the losing side’s wallets with her robust cleavage.

  I glance at my watch. Three more days…

  I leave the tournament a few dollars richer than when I went in and head across the parking lot toward my trailer to try and get some sleep.

  A cold scent stings my nose, stopping me in my tracks as I step inside. That deadly and familiar mix of nicotine and Chanel No. 5.

  “Close the door, Archer.”

  I deflate with the sound of her voice, willing the chill to cease as it fires down my back. Her shape hovers in my peripheral vision, casting a ghostly shadow over my damn bed. Dark blue dress. Jet black hair. Pale white skin. />
  I pull the door closed behind me before daring to look up. When I do, she purses her painted lips around the butt of her cigarette and the cherry burns orange.

  “I’ve asked you before not to smoke in here,” I say.

  Myra blows the smoke out, creating an arch over her head to fill the space around her with floating, white wisps. She flicks the cigarette to the floor and crushes it with her open-toed heel as she stands.

  “Well…” she says, “I am impressed.”

  I wince with annoyance at the fresh, black stain on my carpet. “With what?”

  “You’re still alive, for one.”

  “No thanks to you,” I say. “If you wanted me dead so badly, why didn’t you just do it yourself?”

  Her shoulders bounce. “Two birds, one stone. I’m efficient.”

  I lean against the table and cross my arms. “I don’t suppose you’ll fill in the blanks on that one. The short version, if you don’t mind.”

  She smiles at me again, gently tilting her head. “The Boss is building a new team.”

  “For what?”

  “For whatever the fuck she wants,” she says, dropping patience. “The short version is that the organization is looking for new blood. We need a good hunter and, naturally… I thought of you.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “I’m going to give you thirty seconds to redact that.” She takes several steps forward, stopping in front of me. “This was a test, Archer. I wanted to be sure you still had a little bit of that…” she reaches out and straightens my jacket collar, “survival instinct.”

  I slowly cup her wrists and guide her back a step. “That’s one bird. Who’s the other?”

  She stands a little taller and crosses her arms. “Lilah.”

  “What were you testing her for?”

  “Doesn’t matter. She failed. You didn’t.”

  I hold a fixed expression as I search her stone-cold face. “So, you pop a bit of popcorn, raise the gates, and watch as the two rats tussle over the last piece of cheese, eh?”

  “I’ll be honest,” she chuckles, “I had no idea which way it would go. You went above and beyond expectations.” She smiles wider. “I’ve never been prouder of one of my creations.”

  I look away. “And Enzo hiring me to hunt her down. Was that you, too?”

  “One part me, two parts blissful serendipity.” Her smile shifts into a scowl. “And by the way… stop taking jobs tracking down our agents. It looks bad.”

  I squint. “I thought that’s what you hired me for…”

  “I hired you to track them down for me. Not for two-bit mobsters.”

  “They pay better.”

  “They pay with money. I pay with heartbeats.” She bridges the short gap between us again. “Join the team, Archer. This is a you’re either with us or you’re against us type of situation.”

  “It always is with you.”

  “Then, I’ll save the really scary bits and skip right to it.” She caresses my cheek with the back of her hand. I fight the urge to recoil. “You’ve always been my favorite but remember one thing: I pulled you out of that box. I’ll stick you right back in again.”

  I stand still as she gives my face a gentle, but firm, slap before spinning around to the door. “And what happens to her?”

  Myra blinks with curiosity. “Do you care?”

  “No,” I answer, flashing a smile. “I’d just like to watch.”

  Chapter 19

  Lilah

  We arrive at the Botsford Plaza Hotel at seven-thirty on Friday night.

  I walk in through the front entrance and quickly blink to adjust to the bright, golden light reflecting from the chandelier above my head. My trained eyes scan the sea of blurred faces, searching for the easiest exit routes and my heart skips with excitement.

  It’s been a while since my brothers and I went on a mission together. One last job and we can put this chapter behind us and move on with our lives.

  One last kill.

  I nod to the girl at the front desk. “I’m checking in.”

  She gives a forced smile as I slide my credit card across the counter. Her eyes twitch at me several times, looking me up and down, but I don’t have time to care about whatever the hell her problem is right now.

  “All right,” she mutters. “You’re all set. Room 526. Would you like one key or two?”

  “Two, please.”

  Her brows bounce as she lays two keycards on the counter with my credit card. “Enjoy your stay.”

  I swipe them up and escape from the front desk to cross the lobby.

  It’s a busy night tonight. The lobby is packed with groups of people lingering around, dressed for a good time. I probably would have done the same if circumstances were different but it’s difficult to hide a decent pistol in a mini skirt.

  Not impossible, though.

  I pause by a stack of magazines, quickly glancing around for prying eyes before sliding one of my keycards inside and leaving it behind on the table for Elijah.

  My hand drifts behind me, instinctively searching for the gun stashed in my belt, as I walk into the hotel bar. I tap a toe to my other heel, feeling the knife stashed in my ankle holster, hidden from sight. I haven’t spoken to Archer since I agreed to meet him here at the hotel, but if my instincts are correct, then I’m sure I’ll find him exactly where he found me.

  I look at the table in the corner and butterflies attack my gut.

  Archer sits at the same booth with a bottle of the same crap beer he ordered before. His hair is clean and combed back but a few yellow strands tickle his forehead. He’s shaved, too. And that darned leather jacket is as sexy as ever over a freshly ironed dress shirt.

  I take a moment, feeling the weight of the job on my shoulders and the eyes of my brothers on my back, before slowly stepping through the crowded bar.

  Archer glances up, his eyes as drawn to me as mine are to his, and he smiles.

  Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

  My feet move on their own, taking trained and purposeful steps in his direction. Before I reach the table, his gaze falls to my toes and back up, lingering on my tight jeans and the deep V-neck of my red blouse.

  “Hello, Lilah,” he says. The second syllable rolls off his tongue and tingles my spinal cord.

  “Sorry if you’ve been waiting long.”

  He shakes his head. “Just in time for happy hour.”

  A waitress appears at my side with a glass of red wine on a tray. She sets the glass down with a smile and Archer gives her a wink.

  “Have a drink with me,” he says, gesturing to the seat across from him.

  I hesitate. The faster I get this over with, the better off we’ll all be. Frankly, I’m scared of what I’ll do if I stare too long into his wild, blue eyes.

  I cave and sit down, sliding toward the center of the booth. It’s not my preferred place to be. I’d much rather sit with my back to the wall and my eyes on the entrance—

  “You seem quiet,” he says.

  “No, just…” I settle in and smile. “Just a long ride back here.”

  “For a few minutes there, I thought you wouldn’t show.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “I imagine your brothers spent a good bit of time indoctrinating you against me.”

  I chuckle. “They certainly did.”

  “What made you come anyway?”

  His eyes sparkle in the dim, golden light, but I hold it steady.

  “I wanted to,” I answer.

  He smiles and raises his bottle. “That’s a point for me.”

  I take hold of my wineglass and bring it to my lips. Before I take a sip, I inhale through my nose to catch the various scents found in good wine.

  I freeze, detecting a faint chemical lingering beneath it.

  Ketamine.

  I suppose I have Elijah and his chemistry set to thank for this one.

  I set the glass down without drinking it and meet Archer’s eyes across the table
again.

  My guts churn. All my worst fears about this man are steadily coming true.

  And I have no one to blame but myself.

  “Everything all right?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say quickly.

  I slide my shoe off beneath the table and extend my foot to caress his calf.

  Amusement strikes his cheeks. He says nothing and lets my toes crawl toward his groin.

  “How about we just… continue this in my room?” I ask, gently knocking against his bulge with my big toe.

  Archer bites his lip, pausing to enjoy a few hard strokes from my foot before standing up from the booth. “Lead the way,” he says.

  I step back into my shoe and walk with him, casually scanning the unending sea of faces in the lobby as we move. The magazine I stashed the room key in has been turned face-down, signaling a successful pick-up.

  Archer leads me to the elevator.

  “You know what?” I grin. “Let’s take the scenic route.”

  I pull him along with me, all the way across the lobby to the stairway. I turn my back to the door and flash him a seductive smile before pushing it open. He follows me in with just as much enthusiasm and I’m pinned to the wall before the door even closes behind us.

  Archer kisses me hard. I can’t help but part my lips for him. It feels the same as it always has, as warm and tender as the night we spent together, and that just makes it worse.

  Tears build behind my eyelashes as I reach behind my back and curl my fingers around the cold, hard grip of my gun. I bring it forward and press the muzzle beneath his chin.

  Archer stops our kiss and sighs. “Lilah…”

  “Shut up.” I put pressure on him. He takes a step back with his open hands slowly rising. “Tell me who you really are.”

  He stares past the gun, ignoring it to make eye contact with me instead. “You know who I really am.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s not, love.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “It’s true,” he says. “I’m Archer Allen. MI-6 turned bounty hunter—”

  “Turned Snake Eyes agent?”

  “I’m not an agent.”